


What Does Shakespeare Know? (2)

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [62]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Crying, Deaf Character, F/M, Friendship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hearing aids, Music, Poor Jughead, Songs, Soul mate, Soulmates, Support, acoustic trauma, all the pain is worth it, bughead - Freeform, deaf jughead, hearing loss, meet cute, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: In a world where you can hear every song your soulmate hears, Jughead Jones goes deaf.





	What Does Shakespeare Know? (2)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you
> 
> Enjoy!

Everything hurts all the time now. 

He knows logically how they came to this. He knows the step by step procession in this series of unfortunate events. He knows that Jellybean shouldn't have been playing in the coal mines. He knows that he  _had_ to go in to save her. He knows that when the rumbling had started all around him, he'd managed to push her out of a small opening only to get his leg crushed under a falling rock. He knows the sound had echoed and he'd  _screamed_ at the pain that was like no other. He knows that he passed out, that Jellybean had gotten help, and that he'd woken up in a hospital, unable to hear the sound of his sister and his dad beside him. 

He knows that his leg is broken, and that he's suffered from severe hearing loss. He knows that hearing aids will restore about 82% of his hearing abilities, and he knows that his soulmate- wherever she is- probably thinks he's either severed their bond, or he's been killed. 

Dimly, he hopes it's the latter. 

He can't imagine how she's feeling; thinking that he's abandoned her. 

Probably similar to how he feels now. Alone. Untethered. The silence is deafening. He can't hear  _anything_ and he keeps straining his ears as much as he can, and he feels like a stranger in the house and he jumps whenever someone touches him. It's only once they're back in the trailer and he takes a shaky step forward on the carpet, his dad's arm around his waist so he can hobble on his casted leg- that he realises he can't hear. He'll never be able to hear without help again. 

He starts shaking, and his dad is clutching him. He can feel the heat of his breath against his ear but Jughead can't  _hear_ him and he starts crying and he doesn't think he's ever going to stop. His dad is trembling too, and carries him to the bedroom and lays him down. He mouths, exaggerating the words  _it's okay_ and Jughead just cries harder. His dad doesn't seem to know what to do, but he just sits beside Jughead's waist and cards his fingers through his hair and it's soothing, but it's not enough. 

Later, the bed dips as Jellybean lies beside him. She snuggles into his side, clutching his hand in hers, but he doesn't look at her. He knows he should be reassuring her that he's not angry at her- because he's not. It isn't her fault, and he'll never think that and he doesn't want her to think that he does- but he also doesn't have the energy. He just keeps his eyes closed and lets the tears dribble down his cheeks until night comes and they're plunged into darkness and finally- somehow, he finds the sweet release of sleep. 

He wakes up with a ragged start and for one breathless, heart-stopping moment he thinks the whole thing's been a dream. A horrible nightmare. He can hear the sweet noise of music, but then his leg throbs and his eyes adjust, and he's surrounded by his dad and his sister on the bed, lying between them as they snore soundlessly. 

He's not hearing the music- his soulmate is. Somewhere else in the world. Somewhere far away.

He sags back into the pillows and relishes it; feeling calm for the first time. The noise is a reassuring comfort he appreciates so much he aches in an entirely new way. It must be past midnight which means she's probably at a party. The song is poppy and energetic and ridiculously upbeat.  _She lets me down then gets me high, oh I don't know why she's just my type....but I-I love it, I love it-love the way she plays with my head..._ the music croons. It's a band that sounds vaguely familiar. Not one of his soulmate's favourites, but one she likes well enough. He thinks about her. She hasn't realised yet, might not for a few days- maybe a few weeks if he's lucky- she won't realise the silence on his end. 

He feels a little sick when he thinks of how she'll react. Will she hate him? Will she mourn him? How will he know? 

She must be popular, he muses idly, fiddling with the threads of the blankets above him. He feels almost pleasantly warm now, and though his eyes feel dry from crying, he's utterly grateful she's at a party. But only a popular fourteen year old would be at a party on a Friday night listening to music like this. She's obviously beautiful. He lets his mind wander. Enthusiastic, energetic, getting up at ridiculously early hours and singing at the top of her lungs whenever she can. 

It's infuriatingly endearing. It definitely ruins his angsty, brooding vibe. She's probably all bubble-gum pink and sweet. 

He thinks maybe they'll fit really nicely together. 

Cold runs through him when he realises- they'll probably never get to meet each other now. He's got no way of- no way of communicating with her. But, but maybe he can still track her down through the music. He clenches his fist tightly. He will find her, he thinks fiercely. He'll work doubly hard. 

"I love it! Love the way she plays with my head! She lets me down, then gets me high!" His soulmate sings loudly, and Jughead falls back into a fitful sleep, her voice in his head. He appreciates the music viciously, even though none of it's his genre. He thinks this mystery song might become his favourite. 

_She lets me down, then gets me high. Oh I don't know why, she's just my type._

He feels, rather than hears, the crunch of his cereal in the morning and he stares forlornly at the bowl. He leg still aches and so do the scrapes on his back. His throat feels scratchy but he doesn't trust his voice to speak. He doesn't know how loud he'll be and he's scared to say anything. His dad wakes up a few minutes after him, and Jughead can feel the vibrations of his steps across the floor as he emerges and takes a seat opposite him. 

He's armed with a pen and paper and Jughead watches as he scribbles something down. It's a little frustrating and Jughead wants to peak at the paper but his dad keeps it fairly close to him before spinning it around.  _Do you want to go to the surgery and collect your hearing aids?_ Jughead feels tears begin to well again and he blinks them away, forcing another bite of breakfast down his throat. His dad notices and yanks the paper back and starts writing again, but Jughead shoves his seat backwards. He's unable to bear the  _pity_ that's radiating off his father in waves. It makes him feel like he's going to break down any second, so he grabs his coat off the hook and tosses the car keys to his dad and heads out.

The wind is soothing to his sore cheeks and he tips his head up to look at the sky and feels a huge rush of appreciation for the fact that he can still see. The sky is a stunning lilac above him with streaks of blue and gold. A few birds fly across his eye line and he watches them desperately, wondering where they're going. 

He yelps when pressure touches his shoulder and he twists around to see his dad guiltily pulling away. "Sorry," he mouths, and Jughead nods, shivering, and following him into the car. 

"And just like the 80's films we'll go in my back seat and let my best friend drive," his soulmate chirps in his head and he rests his cheek against the window and stares out. She's probably just waking up somewhere on this early Saturday morning. He wonders what her plans are. He hopes she sings more. 

When they get to the surgery, Jughead walks behind his dad the whole time, feeling a lot better when he can see him right in front of him. FP seems to pick up on it too, and tries to accommodate it as best he can. There are adults in the waiting room, bopping their feet to some unheard song. Jughead wonders if anyone can hear it from a radio or something, or whether they're all appreciating their soulmates's taste of music. 

The disgusting cold jelly that they put in his ear in the hospital has evidently paid off, because when Dr Doiley shows him how to put the little beige coloured ITC in his ear, it fits there nice and snug. He prefers it enormously to the in-canal ones, or the behind his ear ones. It feels the most natural, and he adjusts them into both ears, squinting at his face in the mirror. They're not very subtle, and for the first time ever, he feels a little stab of insecurity that he wasn't expecting. What if people see and ask questions? 

He thinks about asking for the in-canal ones anyway, even though his fingers hadn't been nimble enough to manoeuvre them, but he doesn't. He takes a steeling breath and clenches his jaw. Every teenager has some fucked up shit to deal with. He does too. He can just wear his over-head headphones, anyway. No one will be able to see. Maybe he'll grow his hair out a little bit too. Dr Doiley taps his own ears and Jughead nods, reaching for the hearing aid and sliding the tips of his fingers over the plastic in search of the correct button. Each one is a different shape, and he tries to remember the chart the Doctor had shown him when he first entered. Triangle shape is volume, circle is bluetooth, and ah- the little rectangular line is the on button. He finds it in the other ear too, and presses them on at the same time. 

Nothing happens. 

He frowns, before Dr Doiley chuckles-

Jughead nearly falls off his seat. He hears it. He can  _hear it._ It's not perfect, but it's-it's like having a cold with your ears a little muffled. It's brilliant. "Someone has to be speaking for them to be effective," the doctor teases. Jughead grins.

"That probably helps, yeah," he quips back, relieved to hear the sound of his own voice again. It sounds the same. It sounds like  _him._ A little part of him feels healed over and he nearly sags into the chair in relief. He can now hear the whir of the computer monitor, the spin of the ceiling fan. Little sound he had never realised he'd appreciated so much. He turns to his dad, who has tears in his eyes. 

The Doctor stands up, and the movement-to-sound ratio is a little off and unsettling, but Jughead doesn't care. "I'll give you two a moment," he murmurs, before stepping out. Jughead doesn't look away from his dad. He's not sure that he wants to hear it, now that he can actually. It's one thing to receive a look of pity, but it's quite another to hear it and-

"You're a goddamn hero, Jug." FP whispers, voice rough. Jughead stares at him. It feels so  _good_ to hear his dad's voice. Something deep inside him feels safe. And it is his dad's voice, it's his dad's voice, he doesn't feel like he's missing anything from it. It's strong and familiar and homey and Jughead could fall asleep to the low timbre of that voice just like he did back when he was younger. But the words, the words his dad are saying are making him feel warm and embarrassed all over. "You are." FP insists, like he can see Jughead beginning to deny it. "You went in there- she would have- if you weren't there-" FP chokes off a little, shaking his head and Jughead pushes out of the chair and scrambles over to hug him despite his cast. 

It's not very cool to hug your dad at fourteen, and Jughead doesn't do it very often, but he suddenly doesn't give a single fuck about any of it. "I'm not," he insists, voice wobbly, because he's the scrawniest, skinniest fourteen year old there's ever been. He's a surly nerd who hangs out in the library with snacks he has to smuggle in so the librarian doesn't yell at him. He's nothing like his dad. He doesn't play sports and he doesn't make jokes in class that everyone laughs at. His dad is the hero, the leader, not him. Jellybean is his sister and he'd do anything for her, he acted on instinct and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

"When I saw that cave collapsed in, Jug, god," his dad breathes, carding his large, reassuring fingers through his hair. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You haven't," Jughead insists, pulling back to smile up at him. "It's okay." 

"Is it?" FP asks, sounding wrecked. "What about your soul-"

Jughead cuts him off with a sharp shake of the head. "I don't want to talk about it." He insists, "please, dad. I wanna see Jellybean." 

FP nods, and after talking to the doctor again and paying and collecting a number of batteries for the hearing aid and some cleaning tools, they drive home. The sun is high up in the sky now and it looks like it's going to be a warm. It's an immense feeling of love that wells up in him as he hears the tyres on tarmac, the buzz of the radio, the wind whipping by. It's  _noise_ and he loves it dearly. He's never going to take it for granted ever again. Technology is amazing. He thanks whoever dreamt up the hearing aid. He thanks them with all of his heart. 

"Till I'm drowning in the sound of your invitation, when you ask do you wanna dance my barefoot Cinderella," his soulmate murmurs, cha-chaaing under her breath and Jughead snorts good-naturedly. 

His dad looks over curiously, eyebrow arched and looking for the first time today- a little happier. "Your girl?" 

Jughead nods, drumming at the dash board. "I'll be smiling when you find me, cuz I've been waiting. When you ask do you wanna dance my barefoot Cinderella," he sings. He doesn't normally, but he guesses...she can't hear him anymore. Maybe he has nothing to be embarrassed about now. A horrible silver lining to a dastardly situation. It's sobering. His dad seems surprised to see him singing, but doesn't comment on it. Jughead's grateful.

"Cindeeerreelllllaaaaa!!!" His soulmate screeches in his head, and it makes him smile.

"She's obsessed." He comments dryly, lips twisting into a half smile and his dad chuckles. 

"Miley Cyrus is taking over the world. Jellybean's getting obsessed too." He agrees.

"Barefoot Cinderella is Hannah Montana, not Miley," Jughead corrects automatically, before flushing when his dad laughs at him. It's not his fault, it's his soulmate's. She's got obscenely innocent taste in music. All ludicrously happy and upbeat and smiley. Of course Hannah Montana is something she's still singing at  _fourteen._ And now he knows all the lyrics and can't help bouncing his knee along to it. What is she doing to him? 

"Do you wanna take a chance and stay with me forever?" She sings, and Jughead sighs. 

"She's got a lovely voice, though," he says, for what feels like the billionth time in his life. He's been gushing about her voice for as long as he can remember. He's blessed with a soul mate who sings all the time. She's always listening to music and humming under her breath and Jughead feels so close to her it's like they're already in love. "She could be a professional singer. Maybe she will be." 

FP's heard it a thousand times before, but only smiles, a touch more sadly. 

Jughead listens to her sing the song a few more times. She can never only sing it once, after all. He's learnt that the hard way. Her voice in his head is clearer than the actual noises he can hear, which he guesses makes sense. Their connection isn't broken (at least, not on his end) but his ears have been damaged. Hearing her makes him feel...feel like nothing's wrong. "It's all going to change, though," he realises aloud, "as soon as she realises she can't hear me. She's going to...she's going to stop- it's all going to change." Saying it aloud makes it more terrifyingly real. It's like there's an iron weight on his heart, pressing down and constricting his breathing. 

His dad swallows audibly and turns in to the trailer park. "Jug..."

"I'll be smiling when you find me, cuz I've been waiting." She sings, blissfully unaware. 

The words haunt him. 

Jellybean is awake once they get in, and she runs to him and hugs him tight. He hobbles into the embrace and hugs her tight. He's just glad she's okay and safe in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Jay," she whispers, so tiny and delicate. Ten years old and already burdened with guilt. 

"It's okay," he whispers, rubbing her back, "really." He hasn't done  _anything_ special. She'd have done the exact same thing as him and he feels like he's getting too much credit. His dad joins the hug and he's embraced by the two of them again and he thinks that maybe they need it a little bit more than he does, so he stands there with his arms looped around them and thinks about life. 

But they don't stop treating him like a hero. Jellybean is weirdly nice to him and keeps bringing him drinks and offering to do his chores. He sits on the couch with his laptop and tries not to be thoroughly unnerved by it. She stares at him all warmly, like she truly cherishes him and he kind of wants his snarky little sister who called him  _stinky_ and never left him alone when she was trying to cajole him into doing her homework. His dad, who has always been proud of him, looks at him with new appreciation. Instead of teasing him about not going out and tossing a ball about, he relishes seeing Jughead reading or writing. He kind of wishes his dad would tease him again. It makes him feel on edge. It's all too  _nice._ And as the weeks pass, whenever they seem to be relaxing enough to be normal with him again, they catch him changing the batteries of his aids, or turning his head a little too far from where they actually are and they go all small and back to walking on eggshells around him. 

It's infuriating. 

"It's hero worship," Toni says, squinting at the computer screen as she edits a photo. "You saved your sister and so she's obviously in awe of you, and the same with your dad. But not because you're, y'know, deaf," Jughead rolls his eyes, "they've got the guilt as well. They think it's their fault that you can't hear your soulmate." 

Jughead sighs, "it's not their fault. I don't know how many times I've said it." 

Toni pushes away from the desk and spins on the swivel chair to look at him meaningfully. "I don't think it's ever going to sink in, Jug. They're just going to...to have to deal with it. That's your  _soulmate,_ and you refuse to talk about it and it's been two weeks and-"

"Toni." He cuts her off sternly, and goes back to picking at the crust of his sandwich. "I told you I don't want to talk about it." 

She huffs as he proves her point. "She's going to realise any day now, Jug. You have to talk to someone. The school therapist-"

He throws her a glare. "I'm not going to be the deaf kid, without a soulmate, who goes to the school therapist." He says scathingly. That'll be the fucking cherry on the shit cake that is his life now.

She gives him a look. "What happened to the boy that didn't care what other people thought of him?" 

"He was a liar." He snaps, barely resisting the urge to flinch at her bluntness. It why she's his best friend. He's not going to go about resenting it now. "Turns out I'd much rather blend into the background then make myself a target-"

"A target?" She exclaims, scoffing, "god, Jug! People out there think you're a hero! You sacrificed your soulmate for your sister and everyone respects the shit out of you!" 

Sacrificed his soulmate. Has he- god has he-

The air is suddenly too thin and he can't get enough into his lungs. He draws in gulpfuls but it's not enough. He clutches the table with sweaty fingers and feels the chair slide out from under him. Sharp pain shoots up his set leg and Toni is jumping out of her chair but he can't  _breathe_ and his vision is going cloudy. That's not what he's done, is it? He hasn't- he hasn't  _sacrificed_ his soulmate. She's not- she's not out there somewhere doomed because of him- he didn't do that- he wouldn't do that- 'sacrificed your soulmate for your sister' that's...that's an impossible decision, he never made that decision, he would never make that decision- he would never doom either one of them- he'd- he-

Toni's warm, petite hands are on his shoulders. Her voice sounds distant and foggy and he stares up at her in confusion. A lot of her words are getting lost in the humdrum noise of a strange whirring, and dimly he wonders if this is his hearing aid or if this is something else-

"Help!" She screams and Jughead starts seeing black spots swarm across his vision.

Suddenly, the door to the  _RedandBlack_ opens and a tall, broad figure appears. He's familiar but right now, Jughead can't place him and he doesn't care because his chest is starting to hurt now, spiking pain that completely overshadows the strain of his leg in this awkward position. Out of nowhere, Toni's hands are gone and he makes a wheeze of despair at the loss of that comforting presence, but then someone else is touching him. He's right up in his face and it's Sweet Pea- it's Sweet Pea, a Serpent in the year above- he presses their foreheads together. 

"Panic attack." He makes out, and Jughead frowns, not understanding. Sweet Pea's words become slightly clearer, "you're having a panic attack, Jones. Breathe with me, okay?" He takes exaggerated breaths, and Jughead vainly tries to copy him. It works- a little- he gets the tiniest crack of oxygen and he chokes on it desperately. Sweet Pea keeps going though, calm and persistent, and moves Jughead so his head is dipped downwards and he can suck in air. The pressure on his ribs starts to ease, and sounds come back. It dissipates in a matter of seconds once his breathing returns to normal, but Sweet Pea keeps him down and breathing for a minute longer. 

When Jughead looks up, his eyes are watering and there's a crowd of students in the hallway, all staring at him. 

Toni's right. It's not judgement, it's  _awe_ in their eyes. It doesn't make him feel any better and he still flushes at the attention. Toni is hovering near him and Sweet Pea still has a good grip on his arms. "You okay?" He asks. 

Jughead nods once before wincing. He tries to play it off but Sweet Pea shakes his head with a smirk. 

"No need to be brave. Your leg? We should take you to the nurse-"

"No! No, I'm fine, it's just- awkward," he struggles to his feet and Sweet Pea and Toni flank him. As soon as he's standing, the strain on his leg disappears and it eases better into the set cast. He nods, relieved. "It's fine, I'm fine, okay? Can we just- can we just ignore this?" 

Sweet Pea arches a dark eyebrow, looking down at Jughead with disbelief and concern. "Jones, the King will kill me if-"

"We're telling your dad  _and_ going to the nurse." Toni insists. 

And that's how Jughead ends up sitting in Principal Featherhead's office with a clean bill of health from the nurse, Toni and Sweet Pea standing uncertainly in the corner and then his dad bursting in. He's decked out in his leather and Jughead feels tremendously guilty that he's been called away from duty over nothing. "Dad, it's fine," he tries, not getting to his feet and sighing when he sees that his dad has the crutches. 

"You didn't take these in?" He asks angrily, and Jughead flushes, aware of the audience in the room. "Jug, you need these!" He leans the crutches against the desk before leaning down and hugging Jughead tight in the chair. "What the hell happened?" He asks, and Jughead is mildly relieved when the question isn't directed at him.

"Mr Jones," Principal Featherhead says, clearing his throat, "could you please take a seat?" 

His dad does, still clearly irritated and then he spots Toni and Sweet Pea in the room and he frowns with confusion. "What happened to my boy?" He demands, unhappy at being left out of the loop.

Jughead massages his temples, "dad, nothing, really-"

"He had a panic attack." Sweet Pea announces gruffly and Jughead glares at him. FP's sharp intake of breath is audible and he turns to Jughead who can't look at him. What's happening to him? Is he broken now? Therapists and hearing aids and panic attacks and no soulmate? Is he ruined? Is it over? He's  _broken._ He can't find words to deny it so when Toni chimes in, he just keeps his mouth shut. 

"It's not his first one." She says, "he had trouble breathing last week in AP English. I didn't know what it was at the time." 

" _Jug,"_ his dad whispers, voice rough and tearful, "Jug, look at me." 

Jughead can't. He screws his eyes shut and briefly considers turning the hearing aid off too, just to properly block himself off, but he won't. He won't ever voluntarily take away the gift of hearing. 

"Jug," his dad says again, "Jug, is that true?" 

He doesn't answer. 

Sweet Pea clears his through gruffly. "Don't stress him out," he says, "he could have another one." 

Jughead doesn't think that's true. And he thinks Sweet Pea knows that. He feels a rush of fierce appreciation for the older, tattooed Serpent. "Mr Jones," Featherhead begins, and Jughead hopes he's talking to his dad. "Maybe Jughead should start seeing the school therapist-"

 _Dancing in the morning, are you there? Are you there?_ chimes in his head and he sits up violently straight. 

It could be a coincidence. It could be a coincidence as long as she doesn't rewind the song-

_Are you there? Are you there?_

"Are you there?" She whispers as she sings. She's not just singing. She's reaching out. Her voice is hopeful. Hopeful, sweet and beautiful just like always. 

He leans forward, vomits, and faints. 

When he wakes up, he doesn't open his eyes, he just listens. Somewhere his soulmate is still listening to the song.  _Why have the darkening of the light? Are you there? Are you there?_ This is it. This is the beginning of the end. She's going to think he severed the bond. She's going to think he doesn't want a soulmate, and then she'll hate him and then- she'll fall in love with someone else. She'll move on. He's lost her. 

It's mid afternoon and the sunlight streams into the bedroom of the trailer. He can taste vomit in the back of his throat and dimly, as he sits up, he can hear voices in the living room. He cocks his head and then realises, that he can adjust his hearing aids. He presses on the triangle and amplifies the noise and though fuzzy, he can hear what his dad and- Sweet Pea, are talking about. "Look out for him." FP is saying, "he's- he's fragile right now, and Toni's great, but you know about panic attacks and maybe- maybe he'll open up to you and you can- you can watch out for him." 

This is utterly humiliating. "Yes, Sir." Sweet Pea replies, like he's taking the strictest orders. 

He collapses back onto the pillows and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is hell. 

His game plan is to actively avoid Sweet Pea and everyone in school for as long as he can, but given his gigantic crutches that he's now forced to take in, he isn't exactly the master of stealth. Sweet Pea finds him around every corner, with a cocky grin and a knowing eye and pretty soon, Jughead just has to accept that this broad shouldered maniac is now a fixture in his life. The three of them eat lunch together, and Sweet Pea's always near by- not crowding him, but watching, just making sure Jughead's okay. It's weird, but it makes him feel...the tiniest bit better. 

His soulmate hasn't been listening to music for the past week. He thinks maybe she's waiting to hear him playing something. He never does. Even if he did, she wouldn't be able to hear it, and music just doesn't sound the same anymore. Now that he knows that his other half can't connect to him through it. They're in the record store near the edge of town and Toni is buying the latest Imagine Dragon's album because her soulmate has been singing  _Believer_ non-stop for the past few days. He and Sweet Pea are rating album covers when Sweet Pea suddenly sets down the Beatles album and looks at Jughead curiously. 

"Why don't you become a Serpent?" He asks, and Jughead blinks in surprise. 

"Uh, my dad doesn't want that. Not for me or JB." 

Sweet Pea nods, like this was the answer he suspected. "Maybe you should talk to him about that." He offers. "Your cast is coming off next week, right? I reckon...I dunno, you and Toni should join. It's a...it's a family. You don't feel so alone." 

Jughead shakes his head. "It might make it easier for you to stalk me, but I don't think he'll be agreeing to that."

Sweet Pea cuffs him gently across the back of the head. "Hey, dweeb," he teases, "I think you might be an actually half-decent addition. Toni, too. I know we don't...talk about stuff, but you've gotta feel lonely. Knowing that your...that they can't hear you. You need people. More people than just me, Toni, your sister and your dad. You need a support system. I'm serious, man. I used to have panic attacks- when my mom left. You need...you need  _something._ The Serpents aren't all bad, and I don't really think your dad would ever say no to you. He's always going on about how smart you are." 

"Yeah," Jughead sighs, though he's thinking about it, "now that I'm a hero-"

"Hey," Sweet Pea catches his shoulder and looks down at him earnestly. "Long before you saved your sister. He was saying that stuff about you way before." 

Oh, Jughead thinks. Oh. 

A month later, things are vastly different. 

His cast is gone, for one thing, and he can walk and run happily enough. Not that he ever runs. But he can now, if he needs to. And his dad had said yes to joining the Serpents- for a fair enough trade off: that Jughead starts seeing the school's therapist. He takes the deal because actually, more and more lately, he's starting to think maybe Toni is right. He needs to start talking about the thing he doesn't want to talk about, and the bargain with his dad is the perfect incentive. 

He and Toni join together, and after a lot of trials, they get their jackets.

Jughead starts getting called  _Prince_ and he likes it; he likes it a lot, actually. He likes wearing the same jacket as his friends and his dad, and he likes having to prove himself through some other means than a cave-in rescue. He likes the sense of belonging, especially due to the silence on his soulmate's side. 

Jellybean too, starts teasing him again as he gets more confident. After he starts smiling more, starts going out more, starts living his life a little more, she goes back to calling him a dork and saying no to doing his chores and she stares trying to pile her own chores onto him. There's still something there, some new type of realisation in her eyes that he doesn't think is ever going to go away, but at least it's not hero worship. She just knows- she just knows how much he loves her, and that isn't a bad thing. 

It does mean she becomes fiercely protective of him, and she badgers their dad non-stop to become a Serpent too, because  _someone has to look out for StinkHead._

FP tries to stay strong, but he buckles in the end. No one can resist those wide eyes. 

He's enjoying a burger at Pops one day, when the radio-silence on his soulmate's end stops. He drops his burger with a splatter onto his plate as he listens to her voice. 

"I hate everything about you! Why do I love you?" She screams- she's angry and she's crying and Jughead feels like he's been slapped across the face. She's out there somewhere, and she hates him and he loves her so much it hurts.  _I hate you. I hate you!_ the mantra keeps screaming and Jughead is frozen in his seat, burning with shame and grief. 

She's on a roll today, and the songs continue. It's a bombardment of hatred and disappointment and loneliness. She feels abandoned and let down, she feels betrayed and she screams the lyrics and he can hear the sobbing in her voice. Every harsh word, every hitch in her voice is like a physical attack and he sits in the booth: broken. 

"I'm living a nightmare that keeps playing over again. Locked in a room. Hung up on you." She whispers near the end of the night, after hours of torment. From anger, she's now in sadness. "Why don't you love me? Touch me? Tell me I'm your everything, the air you're breathing." 

_Why don't you love me? Why don't you love me?_

He's crying. He doesn't know when he started. He doesn't know if he can stop. He feels like he's been crying for hours. Her beautiful voice, all twisted with grief and uncertainty- she doesn't know. She doesn't know  _why._ She must think he's abandoned her. She must think she isn't good enough. 

"Juggie?" Comes a voice, and he snaps his eyes up to see Jellybean sitting opposite him. He looks around the diner in confusion, but it's empty and it's almost midnight outside. Pop is suspiciously not looking over, and Jughead thinks he probably called her. He manages a shaky smile, even while his soulmate keeps singing the song that's crushing his heart. He feels like he's bleeding; wounded all over on the inside. His sister is decked out in denim overalls and a little pink beanie shaped just like his own. Her eyes are big and worried. "Is she...is she singing?" She asks, sounding small. 

Jughead nods, tears brimming over again. They pour down his face in hot streaks and he tugs his headphones off. He wasn't listening to anything, he just...he likes to hide behind them. But they muffle JB's voice and he doesn't want that. "She is, yeah," he croaks quietly. "She's um...they're the...they're not nice songs." 

"Why don't you give me a reason? Please tell me the truth!" His soulmate screams. It's so loud. She must be  _yelling_ at the top of her lungs somewhere. 

Jellybean reaches over and grabs his hand in her tiny ones. "I hate her." She hisses, eyes red and guilt all over her face. "I hate her so much for what she's doing to you. She has no idea- you- you- you  _saved me._ She's so selfish- she's a selfish-a selfish bitch!" 

Jughead shakes his head, moving around the table so he can pull her in for a hug. His gangly arms can wrap all the way around her little frame and she shudders into his chest. "Don't hate her, Jellybelly," he pleads. "I love her. She doesn't know. She's made a mistake. It's not her fault. We all make mistakes, don't we?" 

Jellybean nods, but he can feel his shirt getting wet from her tears and he wonders what lunatic ever whispered:  _boys don't cry_ because they're wrong. All he's done lately is cry. 

The school therapist, a nice woman named Regina Latterly, has gotten to know him quite well over the past month. And it's easy to tell her that his soulmate is torturing him with vicious, angry songs. 

She nods, non-judgmentally and smiles at him. "I've very proud of you, Jughead," she says, and he scoffs in surprise.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you're only fourteen years old, but you're handling this so well. You've stuck to the exercise regimen, you're eating well, and you've told me the truth. Your panic attacks have stopped, and I know this is difficult, but you're tackling it with all the maturity of a healthy adult. I'm just very proud to see how far you've come in such a short space of time." 

Jughead's never been too good with receiving praise, but he blushes a little, twisting his head so he can look away. "Thanks," he mutters awkwardly. "But I want to make it better for her and I can't. It's...it's cutting me up." 

Regina nods. "She can't do anything either. You're both going to have to learn to cope without the other person. She's going to make it work. She's going to move out of this phase eventually, she's mourning a loss right now. So are you. You feel guilty that you've abandoned her, but you've been abandoned. I know you're worried about her, but you need to think about  _you_ as well, okay? I'm aware you haven't been listening to any music."

Jughead flushes. "What's the point? Since she can't hear it?"

"The point is that music is not just for her. It's for you too. You should take pleasure from it." 

Jughead scrunches his nose up at the thought, but considers briefly the abandonment thing. That could be...that was something. His soulmate somewhere was hurting, but he was hurting too. Maybe Regina was right. Maybe his soulmate would move on eventually and she could be...she could be happy. "She probably doesn't want someone like me, anyway," he mutters, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully. "I'm all...broken. She'll want- she deserves someone who can...who's not broken." 

Regina's voice is thick, "you're not broken, Jughead."

"She deserves someone better than me." He asserts, everything locking into place in his head. Wherever his soulmate is, she's beautiful and brilliant and she deserves someone like that too. 

He does listen to a song on the way home though. The first song he's listened to since the trauma. It's not one of his favourites, but it's one Toni used to play all the time and for some reason it comes into his head. The first song he's heard that his soulmate won't be able to hear.  _We're caught in the same, no one's to blame, I still believe in us_ plays in his headphones and he shivers as it sends tingles down the nape of his neck. "We're still good together," he whispers, wondering what his soulmate would do if she heard him singing. Probably drop whatever she was holding in amazement. 

He has the sudden urge to listen to the most romantic song he can think of. He swipes through his phone, ignoring all his darker, more moody playlists to the ridiculously upbeat and bright one that's full of songs that his soulmate has listened to and introduced him to. He wishes he'd done this back when she could hear it. "I'm not surprised not everything lasts," he mutters, looking around as he walks but the street is empty. He clears his throat and gets a little louder. A small skip in his steps, "and I know someday that'll it all turn out...I just haven't met you yet," the song makes him smile in spite of everything, just because he can perfectly recall his soulmate's voice whenever she sings this. She's so ridiculously sweet and Disney-esque. 

He loves her. He always will. And if you love someone, well...he hopes she can be happy after all this pain. She deserves it and-

He deserves to be happy too. 

The years pass slowly as he experiences them, and far too quickly once he looks back. All too soon, and after an age, he's eighteen years old and packed for NYU. His dad is so proud and keeps bragging to everyone who'll listen while Jughead just flushes and squirms in pleased embarrassment. JB is fourteen years old and trying her hardest to learn Spanish because her soulmate has been exclusively listening to Spanish music lately. He's leaving in a week, and he's been buzzing with excitement at the thought of doing Creative Writing. It's a dream come true. 

 _These words are my own, I love you, I love you, I love you_ Natasha Bedingfield sings in his ear and he wakes with a jerk, rubbing his face as he blinks to awareness and glares at the clock. It's 6:30am and he groans. Why is she up this early? He flops back into the pillows and listens to her start singing along before the song cuts off. He waits for a while, basking in the warmth of the late fall sun as it streams into his bedroom. Bang on the dot at 6:45, her work out playlist starts playing and he pictures a faceless, but beautiful figure jogging or at the gym. He snorts to himself. Of course his soulmate is an active ray of sunshine and he's a lazy shadow-dweller. That's just life. 

He knows she'll run for exactly twenty three minutes, so he gets up and decides to grab a shower. He wonders, while he washes, whether she's going to go to college or not. He hasn't heard any songs that indicate it, but she stopped communicating with him via music a long time ago. Occasionally, rarely, in little bursts of what he guesses are maudlin, she'll play a sad song and sing the lyrics quietly and forlornly. It makes his heart pang, but it never lasts for too long before she's happy again. 

Lately, though, the little bursts have been coming through more often. Maybe something's happened. Maybe she's broken up with a boyfriend?

The thought of her having a boyfriend makes him grit his teeth, but he ignores it and towels off roughly. He's just putting his hearing aid in when he hears her voice. It's so beautiful, that he leans against the sink in the steamy bathroom just to bask in it like he does every morning. He knows all the lyrics to songs in Disney movies he's never even seen and he loves it. 

"Disaster's in the air!" She begins, and he smiles, "can you feel the love tonight?" She sings. Her voice is so melodic and beautiful. Maybe she's already a singer somewhere. She does sing  _a lot._ He relishes the beauty of her voice. "He's holding back he's hiding, from what I can't decide. Why won't he be the King I know he is? The King I see inside?" She harmonises with herself and he lets her song envelop him. She's in a Lion King mood. She's not often in a Lion King mood, she prefers her princesses and kick-ass female warriors, and he wonders what's happened. Maybe she saw a cat? Maybe she had a dream? 

She isn't singing any of Simba's parts, and he wonders if she's left them out for him. He hopes she has. He sings them for her, marvelling at how happy she sounds this bright Saturday. "So many things to tell her. But how to make her see? The truth about my past? Impossible, she'd turn away from me." He swallows thickly. All lyrics start seeming incredibly applicable when sung out of context like that. 

He towel dries his hair and goes to get changed as she keeps crooning away. 

As he pads into the kitchen, JB looks up miserably from the kitchen table and he chuckles at her expression, ruffling her hair. "What's wrong, little one?" 

"Spanish is so  _hard."_ She whines, "why is he suddenly listening to Spanish music? I don't understand! Can he not speak English anymore?" 

"Maybe he's learning Spanish," he offers, pouring himself some cereal, "just like you."

"You ain't never had a friend like me! Mr Aladdin sir, what will you pleasure be?" His soulmate giggles and Jughead snorts as he adds milk. 

He takes a seat beside Jellybean and plucks the textbook from her hands, staring at the complex Spanish verb conjugations. "This looks really hard. Have you tried asking through music? You could try to find a song with the lyric: please start singing in English again."

Jellybean rolls her eyes and grabs the book back as he starts his cereal. "I can't believe you're leaving," she sighs, "who's gonna annoy me now?" Her look softens and she gives him a sad little smile. "I'm really gonna miss you, Jay. Do you have to go?" 

"He's gotta change the world with his writing, baby," FP calls, and Jughead grins. His dad's hand ruffles his hair and then JB's. "Alright, go get dressed. I'm gonna drive us down to Greendale for a day of paint balling."

Jughead and Jellybean look up in unison. "Wait, really?" Jellybean gapes, as Jughead scrambles out of his seat. 

"I call green!" He yells, sprinting into his bedroom to get changed.

Jellybean's voice is slightly muffled by FP's laughter. "You're always green, no fair!"

The last week passes in a pleasant haze of joy. He's a little bruised all over from paint balling, when he and Sweet Pea spend a whole night driving around in Sweet Pea's car and going to all their favourite spots in Riverdale. They talk about everything and Sweet Pea nudges his knee. "The town's gonna be quiet without you, bro," he sighs, and Jughead reaches over to flick his ear. 

"You're my brother," he says, instead of teasing him for the tenderness. He looks out at the distant lights of the town he loves. "I um- you're my family, and I love you, man, you know?" He clears his throat and pretends not to see Sweet Pea's eyes water. 

"Sure. Whatever. You're um, my- brother too. Or whatever."

They're silent for a second, before they burst out laughing. 

With Toni, it's different. She's going to NYU too and she's all packed and they're going to be driving up together. They still celebrate and she drags him to a bonfire with all of the Serpents and he lets her take a bunch of photos of them all, and he's kisses her cheek and thanks fate that they're going off together. He feels so lucky. So lucky that he's had these two amazing people to grow up with and he knows he's going to keep his Serpents jacket forever and never ever going to cover his tattoo because he's not sure he'd be here without them. 

On the evening of his final night, he and Jellybean go to the coal mines. 

There are faded warning signs, and the darkness settles over them as they crunch over the gravel towards it. They're both in their jackets and the green emblem glitters in the moonlight. Jughead hasn't been here since...he's not sure why Jellybean wanted to come. But here are they and all is silent. "You're my best friend," she whispers and Jughead smiles and wraps his arm over her shoulder because  _ditto._ They've always been best friends. He feels bad that her poor soulmate has had to listen exclusively to Pink Floyd for the past decade, but he still knows that whoever Jellybean's with is the luckiest guy on earth. Sure, times had been hard after the accident and he'd been...in a bad place, but they'd got through it together. They'd both taken sign language classes at school and come home and taught dad and they'd all collapsed in a heap of laughter. "I keep...I always think I've ruined things for you, and if only I hadn't been so stupid that day, you wouldn't have had to-"

He's heard this before, and he holds her tighter. "Don't ever think that. You're my sister. You've never ruined anything." 

She shakes in his arms. "You're going off to do your life anyway, and that's...that's so cool." She whispers, and he kisses her head and smiles. 

"It is pretty cool. You have a pretty cool brother."

She shoves him and sniffles. "Doofus." She mumbles, and he scoops her into his arms so she shrieks and hits his back as he slings her over his shoulder. 

"Dork," he declares playfully and twists them away from the mines and back towards his motorbike. Away from the past. Into the future. 

When they're at home, he tucks her in and watches a few old re-runs with his dad, pleased when there's no other open heart-to-heart. His dad just kisses his forehead and pats his back and Jughead can read it exactly for what it is. 

"Night, dad," he says, hugging him tight. FP's eyes crinkle around the edges and he shakes his head. 

"Brat," he says fondly, and Jughead feels so  _happy_. 

He's in his room, finishing up packing with his hearing aids turned down low when out of the blue, his soulmate starts listening to a song. 

 _"Baby I will hurt you never...in love forever. We can ride it together, making love with each other. Islands in the stream! That is what we are! No one in between! How can we be wrong!"_ the song blasts and he tips his head back and laughs. Of course she's listening to some Dolly Parton in the middle of the night. He's so utterly in love with her. It's one of her favourites, and he knows all the words, so he keeps packing and folding up his plaid shirts bobbing along to it. 

"Islands in the stream, that is what we are," he murmurs, unable to help himself. Her voice is addictive and sweet as syrup but with a depth that hints at the real talent she has lurking there. He chuckles when the song plays again. She's got it on repeat. Maybe she's in a Kenny Rogers' mood. He wishes he knew why. He wants to know everything about her. "Sail away with me! To another world!" He sings, wondering if a day could be more perfect. Somewhere, his soulmate is happy and he's...he's happy too. 

After more teary goodbyes and a journey of excitement, he and Toni get to their dorms. They're rooming together, which is good as it means Jughead doesn't have to explain to anyone not to call him from around corners, or for them not to shake him when he's sleeping. He prefers a few gentle kicks to the side of the mattress so he can be woken by the vibrations rather than violent shaking. They dump their bags and look at one another in amazement at the fact they're here. They've made it. They're at NYU and they're oldest friends and they're roomies and-

"This is gonna be the best four years," Jughead declares and Toni blows her hair out of her face- it's a bright pink now- dyed for college, and she whoops. 

And college is amazing. He adores his course and meets a few people, but really, he's more of a loner at heart and he prefers to bury himself in the books and novels for class, all the while working on his own. 

His soulmate appears to be going the other route. She listens to house music on Friday nights- so she's clearly at club, she still has a morning gym playlist and thankfully doesn't start waking up any earlier than 6:30pm. 

Her music taste has been fairly erratic though. Songs that Jughead's never heard her listening to before- in fact, she starts listening to some of the songs he used to like, which is slightly unnerving and definitely not her. He wonders if maybe she's going through an image problem. A lot of people like changing things up, especially once they start college. Maybe she's started college too. And become...a brooding, angsty music lover? He frowns. It doesn't seem likely. She's so happy, but he can't deny that he's currently hearing:  _I eat my dinner in the bathtub then I go to sex clubs watching freaky people getting it on._ It's not...it's not her. This is the girl who starts bombarding him with Christmas music the second the date turns to December 1st. He's worried about her, and he finds it harder to write without having to ignore another Disney soundtrack or be pleasantly surprised when she plays an old gem from the 1950s. She keeps him on his toes. He wishes there were some way to help her. 

For a few days in a row she listens to painful love ballads, and they hurt so much that he can hardly focus on class. " _I've lost who I am, and I can't understand why my heart is so broken rejecting your love without love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on."_  The songs sing in his head, but she never sings along, so he wonders whether she's directing it at him, or whether she's thinking about a boyfriend who she's broken up with. 

He's in the middle of re-drafting one of his final chapters one night, his headphones around his neck, crossed legged on his bed when the music changes. Toni's out. It's her first time meeting her soulmate- they've arranged it somewhere out of town, using song lyrics to pick a location. He's staying up just in case something goes wrong, and he's got his phone ready and enough cash to get a cab anywhere. 

Shawn Mendes starts playing.

But it's not Shawn Mendes like Jughead's ever heard, and because of his soulmate, he's heard a lot. This is...this sound...this sound is  _live._ He laughs in amazement, and rests his head back against the wall pretending he's there at the concert with her. He thinks he'd go anywhere with her, even if the music wasn't for him, because she probably comes alive. She's so passionate when she sings, that he guesses she's exuding energy and excitement. She's probably a vision. 

He does as he's always done. He writes about her. About what she might be like. 

It's not for his novel, it's...something else. Something private. Something far too intimate that he hides in the depths of his laptop and opens up on dark days. Every song she plays more than three times, songs she used to love but hasn't listened to in ages so he thinks she's probably forgotten it. If he ever met her, he'd...he'd show her all the songs she used to love. He thinks she'd like that. She seems the type to like thoughtful things. 

He's heard all the songs that Shawn Mendes is singing, because his soulmate is a fan, and he's pleased that she's there. She's settling back into her skin, he hopes. 

He falls asleep to her voice; hoarse and croaky but still singing away to Queen, and dreams of her smile.

It's probably beautiful. 

A few days later, he's camped out downstairs in the student lounge at 2am because watching Toni and the fabulous but very intense Cheryl Blossom make out all night is something that...something that he'd rather not be privy to. Cheryl seems nice, if a little fierce. She'd taken one look at him, eyes sparkling with perceptiveness and shook his hand. "You're Jughead Jones. The deaf roommate."

Jughead had blinked and Toni had swatted Cheryl hard, "Cheryl!" She turns to Jug, "I never told her that."

"She didn't need to." Cheryl shrugs, "I can tell. I'm Cheryl Blossom, d'uh," she'd flicked her hair over her shoulder and Jughead had liked her immediately. "We should go shopping some time. I love giving makeovers and you...could use one." 

Jughead snorted. "I've walked into the plot of Clueless." 

"Oh," Cheryl nodded, sliding her arm around Toni's waist and nodding. "I like him." 

So now he's watching Matilda in the empty student lounge. It's nice and comfortable enough and everyone else is out clubbing but Jughead would rather watch Miss Honey triumph. The ending montage has just started and he's bobbing along to it when he suddenly hears the song again in his head. He jerks upright and then hears his soulmate's voice too:

"Little bitty pretty one come on and talka to me," Betty sings. 

He jerks around, looking around the empty student lounge stupidly before sagging back into the cushions. He smiles as he realises, feeling warm and fuzzy. Somewhere out there, she's watching this too. The thought is nice. He listens to her singing and imagines what it would have been like if she was here beside him. Tucked up into his side. He wonders if she likes cuddling. He likes cuddling. He wants to wrap his arms around her and keep her close. He feels so connected to her, knowing that somewhere they're both doing the same thing at the same time. He wonders how far away she is. He wonders how he's ever going to live without her. 

He wonders, he wonders, he wonders. 

A few days later, he's on the bus to class, headphones playing nothing because he's listening to his soulmate's music as usual. She's stuck on Shawn Mendes again, a run on effect of the concert and he leans against the window and yawns, eyes slipping shut. He didn't get enough sleep last night, his deadline is due soon and he's hurriedly racing towards the word count but whenever he  _has_ to write, he loses all inspiration, but whenever he doesn't, he can write eight thousand words in a single night. Life is hard for the writer. Still, he's going to present his few paragraphs to the class and workshop them, and hopefully he can talk Toni into coming to see the Halloween remake with him tonight. But she has the University paper, so he's not sure. He might have to go it alone or invite the peculiar, but sweet girl who lives opposite them. 

Maybe that's just the sort of thing he should be doing. Maybe he should be getting a girlfriend. There are people whose soulmates have passed away tragically. There are people out there with soulmates who have severed the bond and who are looking for love. Jughead could be...he could be one of them. 

His soulmate probably has someone. Someone absurdly handsome and put together. 

He sighs and enjoys the rumble of the bus and focuses on the song. 

"Do you got plans tonight? I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan and I..." he murmurs, and smiles a little. It's so damn catchy. She has good taste and even when she doesn't- it always ends up growing on him. He loves her so much. There is a silver lining- a real one, and that's that even though she can't hear him, he can hear her and he'll always have that. A few of his friends had broached the idea of him having the surgery, but he'd never do that. Not ever.  _I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan and I... was thinking I could fly to your hotel night, cuz I..._ "I can't get you off my mind," he mumbles along, wishing she was singing along rather than just listening. But maybe she's in public, just like him. And yet here he is, still whispering like an idiot. 

He opens his eyes in surprise when the music cuts off and switches to another song before it finishes. That's unlike her. 

But then Careless Whisper starts playing and he can't help the laugh that slips out from between his lips. Of course. Of course. That's his soulmate after all. He watches the cars race by and sighs. "I'm never gonna dance again, guilty feet have got no rhythm," he murmurs along with the chorus. The music continues before a shadow falls over him and he looks up to see a striking blonde with her hair back in a ponytail, wearing a pastel pink sweater with a backpack on. She's probably heading to class too. She has stunning, big blue eyes and he's a little winded by how gorgeous she is. He offers a smile, the song still playing in his head. The girl has white headphones in and he thinks she's gonna ask if she can sit when suddenly he feels a sharp sting and hears a slap. 

It takes him a second to realise that he's the one who's been slapped. He gapes, watching as she storms off the bus and struggling to his feet. A man nearby asks if he's okay but Jughead doesn't turn around, just races after her. What the hell? What the- did she have the wrong person? He doesn't know. George Michael keeps singing to his soulmate, who's listening to the music unaware of what's just happened to him. He yanks his headphones off and grabs his bag as he pursues her. 

He doesn't know why but he can't leave it. He has to go after her and it's freezing out there, but he sees her, standing a little way off. There's a feeling in his gut that he has to stay near her. He jogs over, trying to ignore the chill. "Hey!" He calls over the wind, "Hey! Are you...what was all that about?" He pants as he reaches her. She turns around, and his cheek is still stinging and the song is still playing and she's crying. He's so confused, but her pain is his pain and he doesn't want her to be sad. 

"We could have been this dance forever!" She screams out of nowhere, a second later than the song in his head sings it. 

The song isn't what does it. 

It's her voice.

It's  _her_ voice. It's her. He stares in awe and feels his legs turn to jelly. It's...she's...joy wells up inside him, joy and hope and disbelief, and he stares at her, before leaning in to kiss her like he's wanted to his whole life. She tastes of strawberries and happy endings and he could live in this kiss and he knows that this has just become his favourite song.  _Though it's easy to pretend, I know you're not a fool..._

He thinks he's in heaven until he gets slapped again. It hurts even more this time, on the same cheek- and he hisses as his head whips to the side at the force of it. Jesus, why does she keep slapping him? He loves her- he turns around and pauses when he sees her eyes are on the hearing aid. 

Oh. Right, obviously, she...he...he thinks the slaps make a lot more sense now. He owes her an explanation, and he's about to give her one when she starts talking. "Oh god," she whispers, and her voice is so beautiful. He's never heard her talk before but he loves it. "I'm so sorry, I made a, I made a horrible mistake and, and I'm so sorry!" She weeps, and one of her hands cradles his good cheek and he leans into her embrace. God, he loves her so much. But she doesn't owe him a damn thing. He's been torturing her with non-answers and silence for years. And _she's_ sorry? It's ludicrous and he pulls her into a hug because he doesn't think he'll ever tire of hugging her. 

"When I was fourteen," he begins, a speech he's been rehearsing and practising since the accident just in case- hoping against all the odds that what's just happened would happen- "I suffered from an acoustic trauma trying to get my sister out of this coal mine where she was playing. I suffered from severe hearing loss and the doctors told me that though a hearing aid would make up a lot of it- my soulmate- you, you'd never really be able to hear me again. I was...I was devastated. I thought I'd lost you. I didn't...I didn't know what to do. I stopped listening to music. I only wanted to hear what  _you_ were playing, and when you...when you sang those awful songs, where the lyrics...Where you said I'd abandoned you, and that I left you, and that- I wanted to die," the tears are streaming down his face as he holds her, and relives all the memories. "But sometimes- sometimes you'd play such  _happy_ music and I thought- even if I never get to meet you, at least I can hear your music and your beautiful voice and-"

He's cut off by her lips, and he knows he'll never, ever let her go. "I'm so sorry," she whispers against him, and he shakes his head. 

"No, I'm sorry. You must've thought I abandoned you, and you must have been so lonely," she's never been able to hear him. She's been all alone.

" _You_ must have been so lonely," she sobs, like the compassionate, empathetic sweetheart he knew she'd be and he laughs. She's amazing. She's his soulmate. The years of pain were all worth it.

"We don't have to be anymore," he murmurs passionately, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like he's whole. "I've loved you forever." He vows.

She kisses their intertwined hands and nods earnestly. "I'll always love you." She promises. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, I think I'd like to do more in this universe because...I'm crazy? I don't know. If you have any ideas let me know, down below! 
> 
> And if you're hankering for some more soulmate AU's please check my series of bughead soulmate AU's below! 
> 
> Comment, mwah x


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